No petals
by eine.hexe
Summary: She came back after three years of absence, yet life parted them once more. Oneshot.


**No Petals**

* * *

There were days when Inuyasha didn't want to remember how life worked, how incredibly unfair it weaved its intrigues, grazing spines and causing so much pain. His focus was off, as it had been from the beginning, but only because he missed her so much. Not even ten days after she'd returned from the future after her three-year absence and he'd been forced by circumstances to leave her. He hated it. The smells, the blood, the soldiers – oh, the tiny little kids getting killed and maimed, how gory it was. Inuyasha felt nothing but pity.

His ribs hurt but he kept walking, kept thinking about her, dodging arrows. It was easier like this – not to kill. He knew they were all enemy, but for the first time he didn't want to kill. Inuyasha was homesick.

What was Kagome doing? It was his mantra. Was she healthy? Did she love him anymore? Years had passed, he didn't quite remember how many, just that he'd been tossed from one corner to another, from one country part to another; he hadn't had the chance to return yet. And he wasn't even sure he wanted to, as long as it was still unsafe and he could do more to ensure safety.

Did she remember him?

They didn't get to marry. They didn't have kids. Would he ever get to see her old and wrinkly and wise? It burned him to think she might be happy with another, bearing sons to another; the words to these thoughts got stuck in his throat, making him choke. Yet it calmed him – her happiness was foremost. As long as the fights continued, if she could stay happy in such a twisted, sad world, he would be happy, too. The rebels, the Emperor's men, the hunger – it was such a devastating hunger, Inuyasha hated war. He hoped Kagome didn't go through such ache.

His long, silver hair still shined in the moonlight, his fangs still pierced through flesh effortlessly, his thoughts still strayed to a place where his heart would be light, free. His mind still led him to Kagome.

And he felt jealous – jealous of the wind that touched his face, because it touched hers, too; jealous of the sunshine, because it could see her face, too; jealous of the water in the rivers because it quenched her thirst, too. Nature seemed to want to smother him, to spite him, taunting him with what it could do and he couldn't, anymore.

It had been years. Years.

He could still remember her voice. Her lovely smile floated in the air before him everywhere.

"What is life?"

The question rang loudly, so clearly in his ears. He'd heard a young, frail girl ask a soldier before being beheaded. What was life? The question stopped his world from revolving; he simply couldn't find an answer.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

His entire life ran away from him in the blink of an eye; he was too tired for anything. He'd lost his way home.

Inuyasha could still remember that warm face, loving features he'd once adored so much, yet his love was numb now. He couldn't remember her voice, the melodic sound of her laughter, her passion. His eyes hurt, his ears rang, there was nothing much he wanted anymore.

He'd lost his way home.

The idea of going back and having someone waiting for him was foreign, so he decided not to bother with such dreams. Kagome was beautiful, Kagome was amazing. To him, Kagome was the untouchable gift you never dare open. She was the flashes of dreams you never remember wholly in the morning.

But, as all the dreams he'd had, she faded somewhere he knew she would be stored, because his heart didn't want to remember anymore. His frail heart, it ran away from hurt as if it was hell itself.

He still loved her. Every day, he could still find new words for the adoration he felt for her, but it was as numb as his soul. He needed reawakening, yet he was too lazy and hesitant to seek.

Dozens of years had passed – she was surely old and wrinkly, wasn't she? If only he'd arrived earlier, when it had mattered. If he had escaped from his fate, he would've told her how much he'd wanted to share his life with her. The life, the one that he still didn't have an answer for, it went by too quickly. Her life was too quick. His would last.

What was life?

o.o.o.o.o

The petals of the cherry blossoms had held strong for so many years; Kagome had refused to watch them fall. At the time of her decision, it had seemed something too terrible, too final, as if Inuyasha would never return if she ever watched the last of a flower's petals. Yet now she relished the luxury of watching petals on alleys, to revel in her own tragic fairytale.

He hadn't come back. A lifetime had passed and he still wasn't back.

Her children, the adults they were now, they didn't know how much she loved a man that wasn't their father, they couldn't understand her heart, the pull of her soul. It guided her in a way she knew only life and destiny could, yet she managed not to stray from her path.

If they had been meant for each other, then life would have thrown them together some way or another, so it was clear they hadn't.

It still hurt.

At the end of her powers, her hair grey and her hands all wrinkly and trembling, she wondered if she'd get to die with his face in her mind. She'd paint him grey, she'd paint him white, colorful. His memory would be vivid, his touch palpable, and his kiss, the gentle press of his lips upon her, redeeming.

If she ever wondered what life was…?

She didn't want to know the answer because life was so short.

It was just like a garden full of sakura trees with flowers without petals.

Her life was too short and she wouldn't get to see her grandchildren, would never get to spend much longer next to her husband, would never get to see _him_ again.

Kagome knew she was dying.

At the end of the day, not seeing Inuyasha again was her biggest regret and her biggest sin. She felt guilty, as if still wanting him, still loving _him_ was her biggest crime.

And on rainy days, it was.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

He was back. The village was almost the same, the people were almost the same. Inuyasha was the only one who felt out of place, yet he kept walking. His feet felt heavy, even though he was still young, still strong and capable.

His heart was too heavy for him to carry.

He felt no worry, no regret. He'd see her and he'd let her go. If he did that, he'd go on with his life, and she with hers. He knew she felt the same gnawing frustration, because their souls were in tune.

When he saw her, the sun got his shine back. Music made sense again and it didn't matter that her hair wasn't raven anymore and her face wasn't flawless. She was old and wise and wrinkly, and he loved her still. His eyes gave birth to tears he hadn't cried in a long time, tears that had dried long in the past. His throat hurt.

Kagome's old, surprised face told him stories, words about a life they could have had, a life that had been divided, severed brutally by forces of the universe. He got lost in the meanings.

"I'm back," he stated simply with the same voice, yet it was different in a way that she couldn't explain. Firmer, steadier, more mature. She loved the timber; she'd missed it.

Kagome could recall everything. The nights of passionate love with her husband, the nights she'd wished her husband had been Inuyasha, the days she'd spent crying over something she could never have, and it seemed just so silly to her now. If she hadn't gone through everything, she would never appreciate this moment with him, this reunion.

Her eyes watered, too, upon the sight of him, and she realized he was still young, still vibrant and lively. If they had been together, he would have been forced to watch her age.

Either way, it was better like this.

Her lips smiled for her and showed him without words just how happy she'd been in his absence. She showed him the good times, the sunny days, the peace. She wouldn't let him see the storms behind her eyelids, the fire, the tempest, her rage. The pain.

Because life was short and he still had to live his.

When she looked at herself through his undead orbs staring back at her, she felt beautiful. In his eyes, Kagome was still beautiful and it amazed her.

"You took too long," she remarked, yet there was no poison behind her words. He was grateful for it.

"I wanted to come back after the end, but," twenty years had already passed and he'd felt he'd somehow trespass on her new territory, that he'd have no place in her life anymore.

He'd simply lost his way home.

"I know," she said plainly. She understood him, like she always did. She wanted to tell him she'd waited for ten years, but for what purpose? What could he gain from the knowledge? Instead she smiled and said, "I got married soon after you were gone. I lived happily."

He nodded, pleased to hear she'd been content, yet envious of her husband, her children, the obvious grandchildren running around her warn, cozy house. He was back, but it was too late. Too damn late.

"I still love you."

Her frail heart, it soared warmly at the declaration.

"I never stopped loving you," she replied, letting his right hand cup her cheek, imagining she was younger as she felt his lips upon her old ones. She lived her fairytale in one moment she'd treasure for all eternity. This moment she'd take to the grave with her.

He didn't need to know what life was anymore, he didn't care. He'd love Kagome for a lifetime, for an entire eternity if he was allowed. His love for her would never lose its petals.

o.o.o.o.x.o

His kids had brown hair and small eyes. They were the spitting image of their mother, the woman he loved very much. But she was not Kagome.

Years after, he could still remember the taste of Kagome's kiss, the impact of her words. He was still madly in love with her, yet she was gone. He'd lost her, but not her memory.

Kagome had told him about the petals, how she'd accepted his absence only after daring to watch the petals fall. He did the same, every year, but he couldn't forget. Yet it had never been about forgetting.

Their paths hadn't been entwined, but he'd loved her like no other. He always would, because to him, Kagome made no sense. She smelled of flowers when she should smell of rain, she called for help when she should preserve dignity, she fell in love when she should hate. For him, those lost times were still alive and happening over and over again, _forever._


End file.
